Classic Poem

I.

When Jacob 's muse re-strings the slacken'd lyre ,
And, sweetly pensive, sounds the meaning strain,
Why does his fruitless modesty , in vain,
Conceal his name , yet, not conceal his fire :
Since sentiments alone the soul explain,
Keep your thoughts hid, or think not you retire .

II.

Rare, and soon-mark'd, in this receiving age,
Strait, to its spring , unvenal verse is trac'd;
Its course far shining, tho' its banks defac'd!
'Twas needless to subscribe the speaking page,
Unpension'd eminence, and worth mis-plac'd ,
Point the dumb actor out, to shame the stage .

III.

Go on, un-fainting, tread the pathless way;
Nobly redeem the poet's forfeit name ;
Guide pow'r to virtue , fan the patriot flame:
Love of your country doubly, thus, display :
Since he , by whom the great more greatly aim ,
In reason's reck'ning, is more great , than they .

IV.

O! would but fortune crown your muse's pray'r;
Wou'd list'ning angels , to your patron's heart,
Convey your love of each unfriended art ,
What length of glory would you jointly, share!
He , to your genius, pow'r , would soon impart,
And you endear his pow'r , by patriot care .